


here comes the sun

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Crushes, Homecoming, M/M, Public Transportation, dahyun is the op anime character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-12 10:36:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17465933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Wonwoo doesn't know a lot of things. How to handle his emotions is one of them.





	here comes the sun

**Author's Note:**

> GOD. this was supposed to take a week and its been a month so wtv also i lowkey hate it bcs of how many times ive reread it but WTV.

  
It's so cold. Definitely too cold to be walking half a mile to catch a bus. But that's what Wonwoo’s doing, trudging through the snow in his sneakers because winter came too fast for him to scrape up enough money to buy new boots. His friends, way braver than he, slip and slide on the ice coating the sidewalk instead of risking frostbite by walking through the snow with Wonwoo. The ice gives Soonyoung an excuse to cling onto Junhui, making Wonwoo envious of his bravery (or is it shamelessness?), as he stares wistfully at Seokmins back, who seems perfectly content to trail slightly behind Soonyoung and Junhui, and laugh at their dramatics. Snow seeps into his socks and he curses. Loudly.  
  
  
  
“You alright?” Seokmin spins suddenly– without stumbling, much unlike Wonwoo would have–eyes immediately trained on him.  
  
  
  
Concern warms Wonwoo to his toes, he nods slowly, “Just cold…”  
  
  
  
Seokmin squints in suspicion, his attention makes Wonwoo feel like he's just been thrust on an empty stage, sans script. He coughs nervously, shuffling his feet through the snow. His movement seems to snap Seokmin out of his trance, he pulls his scarf off his neck and holds it out to Wonwoo. For a few seconds Wonwoo doesn't move, breathe, think at all. Seokmin shakes the hand holding the scarf a bit, persistent. It's bright green, absolutely hideous and probably handmade.  
  
  
  
“I don't have, like rabies– or anything.” Seokmin says gently, hand dropping a little. Wonwoo senses the slight dejection in his tone and darts his hand out, grabbing it from his outstretched hand, wrapping it twice around his neck and bottom half of his face for good measure. He made sure to keep away from his nose, but Seokmin’s scent hits him immediately, it smells like the lotion he’s always carrying around and something else. Flowery.  
  
  
  
Seokmin doesn't turn around to catch up with the rest of their friend group, like Wonwoo expected. Rather, he sticks his hands in pockets and rocks back on his heels, he ducks his head down, grinning, and looks up at Wonwoo through his lashes. Almost bashfully, he asks, “Walk with me?”  
  
  
  
It's stopped snowing by now, but the wind blows the snow sitting on the trees bare branches gently down on them. It gets in Wonwoo's eyes and nose and makes him sniffle. It lands gently in Seokmin’s hair, lashes. Wonwoo trudges out of the snow, barely avoiding falling, but Seokmin’s still wraps his arm around him when he stumbles. This is too much.  
  
  
  
They walk quietly to the bus stop, Wonwoo walks slower than usual. Seokmin doesn't let go, not once, not even Wonwoo wishes he would. By the time they get there, Soonyoung and Junhui have taken their fooling around to new heights. Junhui dares Soonyoung to lick the metal bus stop pole, and he does, because he's an idiot. Then Soonyoung dares him to eat a piece of pretty gross looking snow, and he does, because he's the same kind of idiot.  
  
  
  
Seokmin almost breaks contact with Wonwoo when he laughs, he grabs onto Wonwoo’s hand as he doubles over to steady himself. The breath in his chest stalls, goes stale. It's a little startling, hearing Seokmin laugh for the first time, even after being friends with him for as long as he as it still knocks Wonwoo off his axis everytime he hears it, although it could just be fondness. He's just so _loud_ . But after awhile you get used it, and it joins an internal list in Wonwoo's heart of things to love him for.  
  
  
  
Their bus pulls up and Wonwoo reluctantly pulls away from Seokmin and steps on after Soonyoung, flashing the back of his phone to the bus driver as he walks through the vehicle to find a space to sit. He catches Seokmins’ eyes through the dirty window and lifts his right hand to wave gently. Junhui, standing next to Seokmin, mistakes the goodbye for himself and waves back enthusiastically, flailing his entire arm. Seokmin smiles softly and waggles his fingers as the bus drives off, leaving them behind.  
  
  
  
Wonwoo watches them until he can't anymore and turns to face forwards. Soonyoung is sat beside him and Wonwoo catches him staring, he follows Soonyoung's gaze down to his neck and his eyes widen in horror.  
  
  
  
“Nice scarf.” He says, then laughs like he's the funniest man on Earth.  
  
  
  
  
  
–  
  
  
  
Here's the thing;  
  
  
  
Wonwoo hates the colour green, it might as well be the ugliest colour in the entire spectrum of visible light. No amount of mixing could save a colour this hideous.  
  
  
  
But Seokmin gave him this scarf and when he tried to return it he was promptly shut down, so it hangs on his closet door, bright and taunting. He flops down on his chair and stares it down, like it holds the secret to the universe, like he could find it if he tried hard enough. Though, Wonwoo believes he might have already got the universe completely figured out.  
  
  
  
Since the beginning of time it's been:  
  
  
  
Seokmin, Wonwoo, Soonyoung and Junhui.  
  
  
  
Then Soonyoung confessess in their last year of grade school and it becomes:  
  
  
  
Seokmin, Wonwoo, SoonyoungandJunhui.  
  
  
  
Wonwoo catches feelings in freshman year of high school:  
  
  
  
Seokmin. Wonwoo. SoonyoungandJunhui.  
  
  
  
Wonwoo drags his hands down his face, green blooms behind his eyelids when he squeezes them shut. He spins around in his chair, towards the general direction of his computer and places an order for bright yellow yarn under his big sister’s card. Makes a note to ask his mom about knitting.  
  
  
  
–  
  
  
  
Wonwoo shrugs off his jacket, and drapes it over his arm. He watches as Seokmin takes his blazer off, then takes it from him without thinking. He never does, not when it comes to him. Seokmin gapes at him for a moment too long, it makes Wonwoo fidgety. He feels like he should suddenly justify his action, but he just shrugs as he hangs up their coats right outside the streamer covered gymnasium in lieu of an answer to Seokmin’s silent question.  
  
  
  
Seokmin closes his mouth, then opens it again. Closes it again. The beat of the drums emanating from behind closed doors bumps through Wonwoo’s chest and intertwines with his heart. He really should think things through.  
  
  
  
But he won't.  
  
  
  
That's why he reaches over and presses a finger underneath Seokmin’s chin the next time he opens his mouth. Pulls away as fast as humanly possible, and walks, stumbles, back towards to the gym doors with his hands stuffed in his jean pockets.  
  
  
  
He doesn't dare look back at Seokmin. He throws open the gymnasium doors instead, heavy pop blares immediately, and fills the entire hallway. It's so loud, Wonwoo can't even hear himself think, everything is muted, muffled. What he does hear though, is when Seokmin walks in behind him and presses his mouth to his ear. He feels Seokmins’ hands on his shoulders, feels burning heat sear through him. Hears the soft ‘Thank you’ whispered against his ear, loud and clear. Feels the soft grin against his cheek. His cheeks tugging and smile growing to match.  
  
  
  
Wonwoo turns a fraction, just to feel the tip of his nose graze Seokmin's cheek, but he’s already pulling away. Wonwoo blinks, a red whirlwind flies past the two of them. Bright red hair, and even brighter red lipstick, presses her lips to Wonwoo’s chin, hands on his shoulders. Dahyun moves from him to Seokmin and pulls him forward by his collar, places a matching lip print right below his left eye. Wonwoo blinks. Then she’s gone.  
  
  
  
Seokmin laughs at her disappearing form through the throng of bodies, graceful in her own homecoming outfit. Something willowy and sheer and firetruck red.  
  
  
  
“Should we–” He almost screams, and hooks a thumb at the trail Dahyun left where people parted for her. Wonwoo smiles and nods, following after Seokmin through the quickly disappearing path.  
  
  
  
They find her again chatting away with Soonyoung and Junhui, both with matching lipstick prints decorating their faces. She turns to them before her company even notice them though the throng– it's a little creepy.  
  
  
  
“There you are!” She jumps when she speaks, and her dress flows with her like a dazzling red river. Layers on layers of fabric–some velvet smooth, others thin as film–swim in the air and bunch together at her wrists and hips, then flow again. Wonwoo blinks a few times, dizzy. She doesn't have to speak loudly to be heard. “There's an after party at my house, my car holds all of us.”  
  
  
  
Dahyun’s not the only junior with a license, but she is the only one with a car. And she takes to flaunting it like everyone's business.  
  
  
  
“Shouldn't an after party happen—you know? Afterwards? We just got here.”  
  
  
  
“Well it’s already…” She pauses, looking down at her bare wrist. “9:45, so unless you want to be stuck here all night.”  
  
  
  
“Yeah, okay.” Seokmin looks like he wants to continue arguing, but backs down easily. It's hard to face off against her for longer than a few minutes.  
  
  
  
Wonwoo bumps Seokmin’s shoulder with his own, and mumbles, just under his breath, so only Seokmin can hear him. “You don't have to, you can stay– if you wanna. I'll stay with you.”  
  
  
  
Seokmin shoots him a thankful grin, but shakes his head firmly. It makes Wonwoo flush, face warm, though he's not sure why. He looks away quickly, back towards their company, regrets it immediately when he sees the questioning look on Soonyoung's face. He blushes harder, his face is absolutely flaming, and he fights the urge to place his cool hands against his face, hoping the dim lighting of homecoming hides it– or the hideous strobe lights disguise it to some extent. He shakes his head softly in reassurance, and Soonyoung rolls his eyes and mimes _let's go!_ back at him. Or at least that's what Wonwoo interpretes from his exaggerated gestures, and indiscernible mouthing over deafening music.  
  
  
  
They weave their way through the unbelievable mass of gyrating bodies—Wonwoo didn't even know this many people came to his school—until they reach the back doors. Coach Pratt stops them before they leave and sweetly asks if he should keep the doors open for them.  
  
  
  
“Ah, that won't be a problem. We're not planning on coming back.” Dahyun explains.  
  
  
  
Wonwoo watches the coach's eyes flicker through their party, pausing on the lipstick prints on their faces. Junhui's stupid love drunk clinginess; Soonyoung's wearing a suit, meaning he hangs off the guy like he's his only lifeline. Wonwoo’s blush. Dahyun’s dress. Now, Coach Pratt is a sweet guy, he doesn't make them run extra laps when they forget their gym clothes, and he plays good music during fitness testing. But he's so painfully embarrassing. He winks, actually _winks_ at them, and it's so blatantly suggestive, it makes his stomach lurch and he kind of wants to cry.  
  
  
He opens the doors for them to leave, patting Wonwoo on the back as he goes. He grimaces to himself about it as they make their way through the dark, abandoned parking lot. Dahyun was right about her car fitting all of them, but she omitted how much of a tight squeeze it was going to be. She and Soonyoung sit comfortably up front, while Wonwoo, Seokmin and Junhui- three almost men- fit into a space made for two regular sized teenagers, and maybe one really small child. Junhui is one sudden stop away from tumbling over the front seat and into Soonyoung’s lap. Leaving Wonwoo to sit squeezed between the window and Seokmin, thighs and shoulders pressed together. Dahyun rolls down all the windows, and Wonwoo almost falls out his from how forcefully he was pressing himself against it. She turns the key in the ignition, flooding the entire car with sweet, blessed heating. Pauses before backing out of the lot,  
  
  
  
“I sure hope Coach doesn’t think i’m some sort of slut.” She muses, mostly to herself.  
  
  
  
“You? A slut? _No._ ” Soonyoung answers anyway, cheeky. Dahyun punches him in the arm without taking her eyes off the road. Driving the careful 40 the school zone requires.  
  
  
  
They start arguing up front, but Wonwoo is too busy pressing his frozen face up against a vent to pay mind. Seokmin laughs at something one of them said, shaking Wonwoo with the force of it, the same time Dahyun escapes the school zone and hits the highway. She drives like Wonwoo loves.  
  
  
  
Above 80 the whole way through, no slowing down. No red lights.  
  
  
  
-  
  
  
  
Wonwoo wakes up to two voices arguing over who's going to wake him up. He cracks one eye open and scans the room quickly. A scarf hangs off a closet door somewhere in his memory, daring him. Seokmin isn't here yet. He flips over to face the wall and noses closer into his pillow, Soonyoung and Junhui ignore him, or they don’t notice, they're playing rock paper scissors but Junhui keeps losing and extending the game. They're on best 9/10 now.  
  
  
  
“He's still not up?” Wonwoos’ eyes snap open. “Oh, never mind. Wonwoo? Wonwoo get up, Dahyun's dad made breakfast.”  
  
  
  
Wonwoo half heartedly rolls out of his sleeping bag, his mouth feels fuzzy as he yawns, wide and unhinged. He looks up and Seokmin, smiling too wide for this early in the day, leans down to ruffle his atrocious bedhead. Wonwoo scowls and grumbles, but he doesn’t pull away; can’t pull away. It’s already taking all his self control to not push into his hand. Seokmin laughs, something airy, and punches the breath right out of Wonwoo’s lungs. He’s got a killer headache, but he’s not hungover; the only questionable thing he drank last night was an unbelievable amount of Shirley Temples. Dahyun pokes her head around the corner into the living room now, hair brushed back into a quick ponytail, nightdress looking more like a wedding gown, pooling around her feet.  
  
  
  
Last night, after the party had finally wound down; after Wonwoo struggled to avoid countless games of spin the bottle. Dahyun had deemed it too late for them to even think about taking the bus home, they’d settled on a sleepover instead. Soonyoung had complained eternally that Dahyun got the guest room to herself, while they had to sleep on the cold, hardwood floor. She didn’t budge though, resorting to slamming the door on his foot when he tried to steal an extra pillow.  
  
  
  
Soonyoung scowls at her sudden appearance, clearly also remembering last night. Dahyun, adding insult to injury, doesn’t spare him a glance, eyes going straight to Seokmin’s hand buried in Wonwoo’s hair. She raises an eyebrow, and opens her mouth to say something but is cut short by a loud crash from the kitchen and a very high pitched scream.  
  
  
  
Then Dahyun's father is calling her to the kitchen to, be a doll and help him out. She sighs, disappointment and concern, though slight, evident on her face.  
  
  
  
“Junhui, come with me.” She commands, turning away, bare feet padding against hardwood. Before she leaves, she shoots Wonwoo a meaningful glance, letting him know she's not done with him. Wonwoo swallows. Soonyoung trails after both of them, leaving the two of them alone in the morning filled living room.  
  
  
  
“Hey—” Seokmin starts. Wonwoo doesn’t give him a chance to continue, pulling away from his hand, mumbling a weak excuse about needing to wash up. He spares a glance through the corner of his eye as he shuffles off in the wrong direction– because he’s weak, because he has no self control– and sees Seokmin standing stock still, right where Wonwoo left him, hand still hanging in the air. Looking a lot like a kicked puppy.  
  
  
  
Breakfast goes mostly without a catch. Mostly, because Dahyun and Junhui, though excellent in the kitchen separately, are both known for their voracious sweet teeth. Soonyoung would have kept them in check, if not for Junhui sneaking pieces of blueberries into his mouth in between even sneakier kisses, keeping him sated. Wonwoo swallows down pancakes drowning in syrup, Seokmin keeps trying to sneak pieces of his oversaturated breakfast into his own, and Wonwoo keeps letting him. Sugar coats the inside of his mouth, making every breath he takes taste sweet.  
  
  
  
Wonwoo and Seokmin get placed on dish duty, because they didn’t help cook. Soonyoung gets roped into it too, since he technically did nothing, but he charms his way out of everything. And he leaves the two of them in the kitchen with a wink sweeter than breakfast, reminding Wonwoo for a split second of Coach.  
  
  
  
He must gag out loud because Seokmin laughs gently as he passes him a dish to dry. Wonwoo accepts it, now timid. Rinse. Sponge. Dry. Stack.  
  
  
  
Rinse.  
  
  
  
"There's this movie I watched recently," Seokmin clears his throat, dry, eyes focused on the sink "It's still in theatres, so I might watch it again, maybe."  
  
  
  
Wonwoo smiles, soap, only Seokmin watches a movie twice while it's still in theatres. "Yeah? What's it about?"  
  
  
  
"Ah, it's really weird. I think you'd like it though." He raises a suddy hand and scratches at the back of his neck, he sounds timid, almost hopeful. Stack. Wonwoo hums gently, eyes cutting to the side. A flush folds over Seokmins face, down the back of his neck.  
  
  
  
"You'd really like it, I think." He swallows, waiting for Wonwoo to pick up an invisible cue. Wonwoo keeps his mouth shut. Soap, Seokmin keeps looking from the sink to Wonwoo, then back again. Rinse, soap. Don't hope. Don't Pray. Dry. Stack.

 

“You, you’d– You should come, with me, if it's alright.” Rinse. Soap.  
  
“I'd love to.”  
  
Seokmin sighs in relief, shaky, then grins a mile wide and hands him another dish to dry.  
  
“That's great! Text me!”  
  
Dr— Wonwoo drops a plate right back in the sink.  
  
–  
  
  
The movie turned out to be a horror film. Wonwoo bites down the urge to ask Seokmin if he's actually seen it before, but with the way he stuck to him during, and even long after, the movie. Well, he can't really complain.  
  
Seokmin insisted on walking home, even though the sun was still high in the sky when the movie was over. But by the time they get home it's already long gone, and Wonwoo is glad for the company. The silence gives Wonwoo a chance to think back to the weight of Seokmin's body on his back in the theatre, how warm he was compared to the everything else. So he breaks it.  
  
"What was your favourite part." Bad question. Seokmin tenses up beside him, and Wonwoo laughs, "You weren't paying attention were you?"  
  
Seokmin flushes, opens his mouth to protest, but Wonwoo raises a hand and cuts him off.

 

“It's alright.” He didn't remember much either, more than a little distracted. But he relays the movie to Seokmin anyways, tip toeing over the more gruesome parts.

 

Before he knows it, they're standing on Wonwoo’s front porch, Wonwoo opens the door a little, and warm light pours over the two of them. Something about Seokmin standing sheepishly on Wonwoo’s doorstep strikes a nerve in him. Sea deep kind of longing that has him almost giddy, scared shitless. Seokmin looks at him like he knows everything about him, like Wonwoo’s transparent, and everything he feels in his chest reads right there on his face. It's absolutely nerve wracking. He's being picked apart molecule by molecule, and when you look close enough— confessed on every inch of his being, is how he feels for Lee Seokmin.

 

“I have something for you. Just stay here.. Please?” Wonwoo blurts out, some words slurring together from how fast he spat them out. He doesn't stay long enough to see Seokmin's expression, slipping through the crack in the door, but he hears tiny, cut off noise of confusion.

 

Wonwoo returns, moments later, hands behind his back. Seokmin lights up, squeezing his eyes shut and stetching his hands out, palms skywards, towards Wonwoo.

 

Wonwoo blushes _(blushes!)_ , but when he speaks it comes out gruff.

 

“You're too trusting.” He says, “I could give you a live cobra right now.”

 

“Are you gonna?” Seokmin asks, his eyes are still shut but Wonwoo feels like he's never been more scrutinized. He doesn't answer, stepping forward and placing one hand on the nape of Seokmin's neck, resisting the urge to toy with the soft hairs there. Seokmin jumps and grabs Wonwoo’s wrist, the hand that's holding the scarf, a tremble in his voice when he says, “You don't _actually_ have a live cobra, do you?”

 

Wonwoo laughs, broken and nervous, but still laughs. It seems to soothe Seokmin, and he loosens his grip slowly till his hand drops to his side. Wonwoo raises his arm, hesitating, before wrapping the outrageously bright scarf around Seokmins neck. His eyes fly open, mouth hanging open dumbly.

 

“It's not anything—”

 

“I like you too!”

 

Wonwoo freezes, hands still secure around the scarf.

 

“You what?”

 

“That was a confession? Right?”

 

Wonwoo swallows, speaks as fast as he thinks,

 

“Yeah.”

  
  
  



End file.
